Queso has been around even before I knew what an E chord is. I only knew Queso or keso or cheese through a friend who taught me that bands, other than the Eraserheads and Wolfgang, existed. And may I add that this post is late for almost three-fourths of a decade, and this is neither a review for the band nor for their music, but rather for what they gave for the Filipino ear.
I was just an ordinary high school student when I first heard Queso. As a neophyte to the kind of music they played, I just enjoyed the riffs and the melodic lyrics they put into their songs. I never really cared, its like a drug. If it’s good, then it’s good, you’ll use it until the end of your days, no questions asked. That is music, infectious, addictive and more importantly loud and beautiful.
I will bravely say that Queso’s finest release came out in the year 2002 and it was named after our motherland, Pilipinas.
The Pilipinas album may not be Queso’s heaviest and loudest, but when I first heard the ten tracks in that CD, I knew I was going to listen to them for a long time.
The album for its part is a departure from the nu-metal label they had on when they released their first album. From the first track “Parusa” a heavily riffed and angst driven song, basically a message to religion and their wrong doings. To the eighth track, maybe the most light and sober song in the album, “Hele”, gives us the idea that change was necessary and that music can only be defined by its creator.
I can go on as far as telling you that “Mottaka” is a reggae-ish tribute to the herb and that “Enes” feels like an anthem for something pure but not, but I will not, it will just make this entry look like a review.
So I’ll stop here, I could’ve stopped at 2002 if I had to. But change is inevitable, its cosmic and so is music.
Watch and listen to their songs,